


Imperfectly Perfect

by Sonny



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Challenge Response, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-11
Updated: 2003-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-12 18:42:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben is with Michael / Brian is back with Justin; Ben and Justin bet Brian and Michael they can't <b>act</b> differently around one another - A MONTH of no touching, kissing... nothing... Can they last?... but not before spending one final night together...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imperfectly Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't beta'd because frankly I'm a sneak. And I like my own stuff. Still, though, I praise my usual mentors, Kris, Paula and xof for giving me the extra `umph' to post my stories. Confidence breeds creativity and I get a lot of it from my `home', the B/M Yahoo Group; If I was a full-bred southern gal, I'd be havin' The Vapors! Love to ya'll!! ; This fic branches into a sequel in a larger fic, pertaining to how Brian/Michael spent that ONE DAY together, **_CAUGHT ON FIRE_**

**_“We come to love not by loving the perfect person, But by learning to see the imperfect person perfectly.”_ **   
**By Anonymous**

 

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

 

**DEBBIE’s THOUGHTS:**

  


  
**Jesus, the kids are breaking my heart over here. I’ve known one his whole life and the other I’ve gotten to know through half his life into adulthood. Another woman might have born that beautiful man, but I raised him like my own. I’m standing behind the counter watching each of them in the marked booths. I just laid four plates on the table. What is this . . . a freakin’ double date?**

 **Ben and Michael across from Brian and Justin. I love each man separately, and in my own way, but Brian and Michael are my complete heart. I don’t know what the fuck has been in the shit they been smokin’ lately, but I haven’t seen phoniness like this since Danny Devore tried to tell me he wasn’t “gay” and loving his mirror impersonations of Barbara Streisand. Shit! It was all in their eyes and in their body language. I could just puke where I stood.**

 **I suppose it had to do with my last conversation with Michael, two days ago. Pasta Night was in full swing and he told me Ben seemed to think things would need to progress further into the next realm. I tell you, sometimes that spiritually crap can really shade your view on reality. What the hell did he mean? Ben and Michael had been dating for longer than most of Michael’s ex-boyfriends. What needed to be shoved further?**

 **Then Michael gave me the Look. The one he gave me when he wanted me to give him advice on that cute, tight-assed Chiropractor, Dr. David Cameron. A lot good it did me to voice an opinion at that early stage. Months later, the Good Doctor is shipping my baby off a thousand miles away without a friend to call his own. Was I really right to push him toward David? He’d come to the table with such a fantastic, charming attitude. I think I had stars in my head. Shit, I’d have taken him for myself, but the man was smitten with Michael. Who could blame him?**

 **I had wanted so badly to place blame on Brian again. It was the same story they told over and over. I had grown tired of having to patch up Michael’s broken heart with this Kinney kid. I love Brian as much as Michael, but I don’t want him hurting my son. He’d eventually end up shattering Michael’s heart to pieces for the final time. Then Michael returned from Portland, with his tail between his legs, and I felt guilty. I’d forced Brian to loose his strings and allow Michael space, but in the end my son had been hurt anyway. David had charmed us all.**

 **Michael moves back and he thinks things have gone swell around here discovering life went on while he was absent. Which did two things to me. Pissed me off and made me cry. I was angry because Michael is such a worry wort, and pessimist, that he could find sorrow in the happiest moment. He doesn’t see how courageous he is, but I do. I try to tell him as often as I can, but he’s usually certain I’m working off a bias that isn’t really fair. Then I cried to know that Michael did the most brave thing in the world, took a random chance on love, sacrificing his heart and was beaten down, again, rejected as if he didn’t matter. I’d teach that chiropractic prick a new thing or two about cracking some bones.**

 **Michael then begins to tell me about this new man in his life. A professor. Check. Very good. Good-looking. Check. Great. Tight body and fills out a pair of jeans like a second skin. Check, check. Damn good! The list could go on in his praises, but then I discovered Ben Bruckner was HIV+ , like Vic was . . . and suddenly I wanted to be the aggressive, distraught mother who worries and frets over her precious baby.**

 **I know Michael jumbled all my worries into some simple fact that I just didn’t like Ben because he was dying of that GAY disease. I have protected Michael from so many things in his life, some he’s never even known about, but I finally found my one fear coming true. I didn’t want Ben to infect Michael and I didn’t want Michael to have to learn, firsthand, what having someone you love suffer through the sickness. And my low-class vocabulary left me failing at speaking my thoughts clearly. I didn’t mean to sound so angry and pissy all the time.**

 **My little boy fought me. After listening to all of us grumble and moan about Ben, Michael gave in to shut us up and face his own fears. What we didn’t realize was how much Michael had grown to like Ben despite his health status. And I hate to admit this, but that professor sure had a way with words and could give Michael what he wanted to hear. Those sweet words he’d been wanting to come out of Brian’s mouth all those years ago. So Michael fought for Ben and they began dating again. For the first time Michael wanted me to butt out. Maybe Michael was growing up after all. I couldn’t help but feel my heart breaking at such a huge loss. Where could I direct my worries if Michael no longer wanted me in his love life?**

 **Brian sure didn’t need any help, well he did, but he wasn’t going to ask me for any advice. In fact, I was more worried for Sunshine. Those two were a little too headstrong for each other. Any relationship between them would be based on sex and trying to impress the other by their manliness. Whatever you can do, I can do better? Brian was too set in his ways to change for Justin or to even put any effort toward being a monogamous boyfriend in a committed relationship. I wanted more for both of them, but sometimes you have to let them make their mistakes to show them the way. What happened two days ago on my Pasta Night is a good example.**

 **Some stupid bet. No wait, a challenge of some sort. Ben wanted Michael to give up his deepest cravings. To see if he could defeat his own fears of unhappiness. If Brian was with Justin, and Michael wished he was, then maybe he should take the steps needed to distance himself. The heartache might lessen if he’s not being tugged from one end of the spectrum to the other. Absolutely no touching. No kissing and no hugging. But they could still see each other to go out for the night. Just leave the body parts out of it.**

 **What kind of fucking crap bullshit is that? Must be some “zen” shit that Ben’s meditated on during his illness. Give up your desires and dreams to see how raw you can make yourself feel. I tell you what, I’d liked to spank that man’s bubble butt raw for his words putting ideas in everyone’s head.**

 **Justin heard this discussion, at the table, and teased Brian about not being capable of doing this difficult feat. When Sunshine had vocalized his thought, I knew right away that Brian would take the bet, challenge, whatever . . . then I knew the worst was yet to come. If Brian had to suffer, Michael would, too.**

 **What none of the “boyfriends” knew was that last night, the last day before the month long vigil to abstain from any contact with one another, Brian and Michael had been held up in the old childhood bedroom. I had to work an all nighter, so I didn’t get to discover what my two boys actually did. I only knew that something pretty profound must have gone on between them to be able to agree holding out this long. I didn’t know if it was a testament to how much they loved Ben and Justin, or whether their love for each other was much more powerful. Either way, I was about to up chuck what little breakfast I had wolfed down this morning.**

 **I reached across the counter and smacked the nearest available head. I didn’t realize Emmett and Ted had been talking with their heads close. They clanged as one sound.**

 

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~END of DEBBIE's THOUGHTS~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
Both men looked up at their surrogate mother, while rubbing delicately at their temples.

Emmett made a sour face. “OW-CH! What gives?”

“Yeah, Deb. It’s too early in the morning for this kind of abuse.” Ted cradled his cheek in his hand as he placed his elbow on the counter. “Isn’t this treatment usually reserved for Michael?”

Debbie pointed that “not-so-nice” motherly index finger toward Emmett and Ted. “I blame this on you two, you know?” She leaned half on the counter behind her and used the other to place on her hip. Ready to commence battle.

Ted looked at Emmett and Emmett rolled his eyes at Ted. “I think I know.”

“What?” Ted wondered what could possibly be bothering Debbie about something THEY had done today. They’d just got here and barely seen Debbie to annoy her this much.

Both Emmett and Debbie pointed their fingers toward the Happy Couples’ table behind them. “That!”

Ted nodded his head in complete understanding. “Oh, yeah . . . The Honeymooners.”

Emmett made another face as he began to think about what to comment on. He didn’t want to get hit again. “I think their turning into lesbians. All that goofy grinning, whisperin’ sweet nothin’s in each others ears . . . and tryin’ to keep some body part in contact with one another.” Emmett paused realizing him and Ted had just been doing exactly what he was complaining about. Ted and he separated as smoothly as possible to avoid being called hypocrites.

Debbie stood her ground. “At least you two are real. This . . . “ She used a hand to sweep over to the faraway table. “I don’t know if Ben’s as smart as I think he is. You’re putting thoughts into Ben’s and Justin’s head about the possibilities of what Brian and Michael could have . . . if they didn’t have boyfriends. I don’t know who to be more pissed at, so I’ve decided to choose the closest . . . you two.”

Ted stared dumbfounded at Debbie. “That’s clearly a lame call. We have no say in what Michael and Brian choose to do with their time. I though Ben was okay with Brian’s place in their life?”

Emmett used his fork and knife to cut up his buttered toast on the ceramic plate. “Honey, Ben’s human just like the rest of us. I don’t care how many times you meditate or rub the Buddha Baby’s belly . . . Ben knows Brian like Michael’s wanted to for years. He knows the draw, the pull . . . the animal, primal magnetism that Brian gives off. The deep cravings that call out to you in the . . .” This got his ear tugged so his face nearly met the counter top. “OW-WA! Deb, please! I’m just a delicate flower!”

“Delicate, my ass! You are not helping any!” She tried to carry on the conversation at a quiet level, but peered over to see that her boys were suspiciously eyeballing her. She let go of Emmett. He rubbed his lobe. She patted his cheek in an apology. “I love ya’ lots, kid, but sometimes that mouth of yours needs to shut it!”

Ted snickered as he took a sip of his coffee. Coming from Debbie that was rich! This got him another slap to the other temple that hadn’t been hit. “Come on, Deb! Warn a guy, huh! Now, I know why Michael wines so much about your right hooks.” He held his head in his palm as he blinked his eyes to refocus. He thought he might be having trouble seeing out of his right pupil. “Shit! I think you poked me in the eye, Deb!”

She faced him down, thinking he was playing at being a martyr. “Cram it, Teddy! I don’t wanna hear another word from you two, unless it’s a way to break this damn bet.”

“A bet would involve money.” Emmett spoke out without thinking and covered his head like a war-torn veteran. “Mommy!”

Debbie turned from picking up the two coffee pots, De-caf and Caf. She was on a mission. “Don’t mess with me, boys! Excuse me, I got customers to take care of.”

Ted picked up his napkin to place on his eye in case any blood seeped out. “I’d press charges, if I didn’t love her so much. Or think she knows exactly what she’s talking about.”

Emmett grabbed for Ted’s chin and swiveled the eye toward his lips. He kissed the boo-boo gently. “You’re irritating it, Ted. Leave it alone.” He went back to his meal.

“She tried to gouge my eye out. Should I expect her to stab me with her pencil next, giving me fatal lead poisoning, if I say anything else about the subject?” At least from Emmett, he’d expected a little more sympathy.

“Be my guest and find out.” Emmett watched Ted shove the rest of his breakfast into his mouth and slurp the last drop in his mug. “Ted, what . . .”

Ted grabbed for his jacket and was getting prepared to make run for it. “I’m getting out while I still have my one good eye, and the rest of my body, intact. I’ll warm up the car for you.” As he went to make his quick exit, he turned back around to walk toward the Happy Couples’ table. He smacked Michael, just like Debbie would have done on the side of the head. Everyone at the table choked on the next bite in their mouths.

Michael held his head in agony. “Christ, what’d I do to you?!”

Ben couldn’t help chuckling at the cute anger fit his lover went into as he touched the sore spot, rubbing the area affectionately.

“Uh, I’ll explain to you later. Gotta go.” Ted smiled at everyone else and as he put a hand up to wave “bye”, everyone ducked for safety.

Debbie was one table behind the Happy Couples’ table, giving her usual smiles and loving glances to her regular customers. She wasn’t looking forward to serving her boys in the slightest. As she approached, with the two coffee pots in her hands, she used the next available appendage to kick Michael in the shin.

Frustrated by being hit for no reason, for a second time, Michael sat up in the booth. He turned to Ben showing his back. “Ben, please, check for me. Is there a sign on my shirt?”

“No, Michael.” Ben tried to hide his laughter behind a hand as he took a sip of his juice. He was getting kind of curious to what had occurred just a few minutes ago to piss Ted off. He made a random sweep to the other side of the table and noticed that Brian was avoiding looking at Michael, as he hid a stupid grin on his face. Funny, any other time, Brian would have made a snappy comeback, teasing Michael. Who would’ve blushed and made a crazy face toward his best friend. Nothing happened. Today was the first day of their abstinence from one another.

Justin noticed the same thing as he watched Brian take deliberate bites of his breakfast. God, amazing how one simple move from him could look so sexy. He had never, in his young life, wanted to be a fork so bad at that moment. He looked over at Michael who was eating his bowl of cereal like he usually did, overhanded with the largest spoon his Mommy could find him. He snickered at the sight Michael made, wondering how Ben could be attracted to a man who acted like a little boy in so many of his everyday activities.

“Are you coming by the store later tonight?” Michael sent out the random question never identifying whom it was directed to.

Brian didn’t lift his head from his plate. He rolled his wrist to look at his watch.

Ben and Justin quickly glanced at one another wondering if they could catch their “boyfriends” in hedging the bet. They were about to share in a joined smirk, when Michael’s voice interrupted them.

“Justin? Hey, you got a class tonight or something? If so, we can always reschedule. I can work on some new inventory I got in yesterday.” Michael wasn’t aware of Ben and Justin’s shared look.

Justin had to shake his head out of the cloud he’d been lost in. “Uh, yeah. Sure. What time do you want me there? Oh, wait . . .” He turned to Brian wondering if they had any plans for tonight.

Brian placed his silverware down on his empty plate and drank the final ounce of liquid in his cup. He shrugged nonchalantly as he went about to pick up his trench coat and briefcase. “I don’t care. Gardner and I have some pretty heavy potential client meetings today.” He turned to push Justin out of the booth. “Move! I’ll probably be late and bringing lots of fun stuff home to work on.” As he stood, Brian straightened his fashionable silk tie and blinked suddenly realizing he had to pause before he moved another muscle. Any other day, he would have bussed Michael’s rosey cheek, pushed his forehead against the pale skin or squeezed a shoulder. For a month, he couldn’t do that. He closed his eyes to the immediate rush of heartache. As he did, though, images of what he and Michael had done yesterday loomed fresh in his mind. He smiled to recover himself.

Justin didn’t catch the near slip as he went to wrap his arms around Brian’s waist. He pulled him close for a deep kiss, but felt that it wasn’t quite what it should be. He kept a hand on Brian’s back as he whispered, “Promise to stay up, if I come in late?” He drew his arm, and hand, over Brian’s suit jacket. He noticed him wince at having a certain area near his right lower ribs rubbed. “You all right?”

Brian hid the physical pain well, as he removed Justin’s hands off his body and patted them affectionately. He couldn’t let Justin see what was underneath. “I’m doing good. You?” He didn’t really want to know, but it made Justin smile to know he might have cared.

“I’ll walk you to the Jeep.”

Brian smirked at Justin’s way-too-romantic ideas about their budding relationship. Only day one and he was already growing tired of the charade. “I may be older than you, but I refuse to have anyone resembling a Boy Scout walk me across the street.” He pecked Justin’s cheek, instead of whom he truly wanted to kiss, and looked over his shoulder. “Take care, boys.” He was gone before Michael could finish the helping of soggy Fruity Pebbles in his mouth.

Though Debbie was taking the order of a newly filled table, she kept her eye on Brian as he walked out. His shoulders hunched under such a heavy strain. God, she could feed that kid for days and he’d never pack on a pound. He stood, alone, on the curb, waiting for the traffic to lighten up. She heard a commotion behind her and looked to her left to see Michael swear.

“Shit!” He picked up his small glass of orange juice and made a mad dash through the Diner. He was following wherever Brian had run off to, but it wasn’t very far.

Four pairs of eyes, and a few random ones, watched the stuttered display, through the picture window, of two old friends finding it uncomfortable to talk to each other. The distance they kept between them could have allowed for ten people to fill in the empty space. Everyone watched as Michael said a few chosen words and dipped a hand into his pocket. A set of keys jangled in his hand for Brian to grab. Brian opened a palm and Michael set the keys in his grasp. Brian said even fewer words and took out his own ring of keys. He worked one particular key off. That was when the audience figured out what was being said. If they couldn’t act the usual way around each other, they didn’t want temptation to play with their heads. Out of sight, out of mind. They managed not to touch once, while doing the exchange.

A collective intake of breath flittered around the group. Ben and Justin glanced at one another finally realizing what they had asked of their men. Severing a longstanding friendship to see how committed they could be for other healthy relationships. They were not taking this lightly. Somehow, they were running their own test to see how functional they were without each other. Ben couldn’t watch any more and turned away to go back to the table. Michael would be coming back soon and better he didn’t know he’d been glaring at all this time.

Emmett shook his head in sadness as he moved to the register with his bill. “I hope you boys know what you’re asking of them?” He directed his words to Ben and Justin.

Justin tried to show a batch of confidence. “We do.”

Ben wondered about the young man’s respectable stubbornness. “Do we? Really?”

Debbie stomped over to her son’s man and nearly clobbered him with her order book. “NOW, you have second thoughts!” She went back to her customers with an overabundance of apologies for her rudeness.

All eyes moved to see Michael slowly walked back inside. Every head turned to watch him closely.

Ben stood and walked over to Michael as he stood silent in his heartache. He didn’t know if he could stand an entire month of Michael looking dejected and torn. “Michael . . .”

Emmett moved to take Ben’s place, believing that what Michael needed now was a good friend, not a bossy boyfriend. “Hey, sweetie, why don’t you give me a call when you’re ready for lunch and we’ll do Chinese.” As he stepped closer to Michael, Emmett began to rethink his offer. Michael didn’t look anything like his usual self.

“Thanks, Em, but if Justin and I are going to be working on Rage Issue #2, I’m gonna need to get a jump start on that new inventory.” He smiled weakly and grabbed for Emmett’s dangling hand. “Maybe we can do Chinese another day.” Oddly, he wasn’t showing any other emotion, but looking lost and alone.

Ben was about to say something else, to take back his stupid foolish challenge, but he felt someone pull on his forearm. “Mich- . . .”

Justin spoke out of the side of his mouth. “Don’t do it. Stay strong.”

Michael smiled a wide grin for Ben, as he walked up to his boyfriend and kissed his lips. “I’ll see you later.” He did an imitation of his mother’s index finger pointing toward Justin. “See you at closing time.” He tried to cover his sadness by grinning in excess, but it was causing his cheeks to ache. He needed to disappear, and fast.

Every person who loved, and cared about, the man who just exited released a heavy sigh. Good God, wouldn’t it be funny if the only people who could bear the month apart were the very men the challenge was based on?

“OKAY!” Debbie strutted over to her Sunshine and passed him his apron to report for duty. “Get your sweet bubble butt behind that counter and do your time before your first class.” She forced her face at Ben who had retaken the bench seat in the booth. “And you, had better take care of my boy. If there was anything I could trust about Brian Kinney, it was that he knew how to protect my son from harm. If he doesn’t come out of this ‘funk’ in one week, I’m ending this joke by my own means. I don’t care what spiritual being you have running for your back-up plan. Your ass will be mine.” She pinpointed her comment by pinching Ben’s cheek, then rubbing at the red skin. “Got it, Professor Bruckner?”

Ben couldn’t help the flashes of his own mother coming back to him. Debbie wasn’t half as dominating, but she was close. “Yes, ma’am.” He tried to smile as she turned away to fill her customers’ orders. He covered his face with his hands. “What have we done?” He attempted to shake off his nerves. “Shit! I need a smoke.” He pat his pockets to make sure he had his stash with him.

Justin was tying his apron nearby when he heard Ben’s comment. “You smoke?”

Ben stood and decided he’d help the young man with his difficult task. “Turn around.” Justin twirled in front of Ben. “Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

“No, it’s just that you’re so into all this new age shit, I’d have thought . . .”

“What that burning incense and candles was enough to kill the stress? I was a smoker before I was diagnosed. It was the one vice I had that I could still use to bring me back to reality.” He completed the tying of the apron strings which had to wrap around Justin’s waist almost twice.

“You’re already HIV+, why tip the scales?” Justin liked angering this manly beef cake. Ben was a gorgeous man, possibly even more masculine than Brian, but certainly not as sexy and dominant. He just gave off such an appearance of calm and kindness. Didn’t he know he could do so much better than Michael?

Ben didn’t like the way that sounded. It wasn’t any of this kid’s fucking business. “Michael said you had a smart mouth. Anyone ever spank you for running off with it?” He’d grabbed Justin’s forearms to pull him flush to his muscular chest.

Imagine that! The Professor did have an angry streak! Wow! Justin stared wide eyed as he tried to loosen Ben’s grip on his wrist. “Only Debbie.” What was that scent Ben was wearing? His light tan sweater was brushing up against his bare arm. Brian never would be caught dead in anything that soft. Ben’s quick change in character was shedding new light onto his normal gentlemen’s persona. Justin was getting a rush from the experience. No wonder Michael had been caught in his web . . . oh, yeah and Brian, too. There grew a foolish grin on Justin’s face as he mulled things over in his mind. This bet might bring more than a few interesting things to light.

Debbie had been staring at Justin for more than two minutes wondering when he’d get his little ass in gear and stop smiling that goofy grin. She caught his eye and motioned for him to start busing tables. Christ, she may forego lasting a week and just put a stop to things right now, if the situation was going to cripple not only, Brian and Michael, but Ben and Justin, as well. She threw a dish rag at him, when he passed her on the way into the kitchen.  
 **  
**

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

**ONE WEEK LATER:**

The phone began to ring incessantly at around eight o’clock. Ben had his head buried underneath the sink in the small kitchenette, in Michael’s apartment, when he heard the noise. He lifted his head and banged himself, just at the tip of his hairline. Rubbing at the scrap that was lightly bruising, he stood up to rush toward the shrilling extension. He thought it might be Michael calling to say he’d be on his way home.

“‘Lo.” He tried to control his heavy breathing from the exertion of working the wrench on the stubborn pipes.

“Ben?” The voice from the other end asked the question hesitantly, as if shocked.

“Justin . . . What . . . Wait, let me guess. Brian’s not home, either.”

“How did you know?” Justin didn’t want to sound pathetic, but he had hoped Michael would answer. “And what do you mean ‘either’? Where’s Michael?”

“Uh, last time I knew he called, around one-ish, and asked me to stop by the apartment to come fix a leak in their kitchen sink after my last class. On my way over, he paged me to say that he’d be coming home late. That was almost an hour ago. I thought you were him.” He threw the large wrench on the table. If anything, Ben had at least counted on Michael being out with Brian. At least they had lasted a week.

“You think they’re together?”

“I don’t know, Justin. I don’t really have time to dramatize my life for your personal pleasure. Did you call for a reason?” Ben looked down at what he had on. An old pair of jeans with a maroon T-shirt and some old steel-toed work boots. He almost could pass for one of the Village People. About five seconds into trying to “fix” the leaking problem, he’d forgotten to turn the water off. He was naked to the waist. The maroon shirt tucked in the back of his jeans. For the last few minutes, he’d been trying to wipe water droplets off his bare skin.

“Oh, I don’t know. I guess I had hoped if Michael wasn’t there that you would answer and I could find out how your week went.”

Ben could hear the outright displeasure in Justin’s voice. “Something wrong between you and Brian?”

“We’re perfect.”

“And? I hear something more behind that answer.”

Justin cleared his voice as he settled himself in one of Brian’s randomly placed lounge chairs in the loft. “That’s just it . . . were too perfect. We’re everything I wanted us to be and more . . . but . . .”

“But what? The romance is wearing off?” Ben couldn’t help liking to take digs at the over confident young man.

“Hardly. It’s the sex, really.”

Ben made a face as he wondered what the hell Justin could mean. “Do I really want to hear this? Don’t you have a therapist for these kinds of problems?”

“Come on, Ben, you’ve been around . . . tell me what to do when everything’s going so right in a relationship . . . you’ve begged and pleaded for what you want and now that you’ve got it . . . you see that it’s not what you wanted at all. You managed to work yourself into a dark hole that you see no way out of.”

Ben paused in wanting to make a slight tease to his tone as he said his words. He realized that Justin was in “mature” mode right now and willing to take some advice. “Are you all right, Justin? Brian’s not . . . ?” He wasn’t sure what losing Michael would have turned Brian into. He knew what it was doing to Michael.

Justin sniffed and wiped at his eyes as he suddenly felt like crying puddles of tears. He felt like crap. He hadn’t slept a wink last night while laying next to Brian in the aftermath of some really terrific sex. “He’s treating me fine. It’s what he doing to himself that worries me.”

“He’s not that bad, I hope?” Ben decided that he needed to take a comfortable seat somewhere for this discussion to continue. Obviously Justin couldn’t find a kindred spirit to confide in this past week of pure torture.

“He’s not there, Ben. He talks to me, he laughs, and we have some of the best sex I’ve ever imagined. I just can’t help thinking, when I look into his eyes . . . he’s completely dead inside.” Justin couldn’t even mention the night before where he had faintly heard Brian call out Michael’s name in the throws of one explosive orgasm after another. Ben didn’t need to hear that. He hadn’t even brought it up to Brian the next morning. Justin didn’t hear another word from Ben, he hoped the older man was still there. “Ben, are you there?”

Ben couldn’t believe he and Justin were having the same problems. Odd, really, when he thought about it. Something in common with this young kid. “Michael talked in his sleep. I didn’t have to understand what he was saying to know who he was talking with.” He put a hand up to his forehead not believing what he was about to admit to, but it was only fair, since Justin had been so forthcoming. “I thought, the other night, that I heard him whisper Brian’s name after he . . . well, you know . . .”

Whew! He could tell Ben in confidence. “Brian did the same with me and kept calling out for ‘Mikey’. I didn’t dare mention the slip to him, because I had no idea if he knew he did it.”

“Same with Michael.”

Both of them paused at the same moment.

Ben spoke up first. “What have I done?” It was more for himself, in his own head, but he forgot he was on the phone.

“What have WE done, Ben . . . I’m guilty, too. I feel like the lowest of low.”

“I’m supposed to be the Enlightened One. You know, Closer-to-God bullshit. I don’t know why I didn’t just let things go. I think I got scared.”

“You? Scared? When?” Justin tried to pet Ben’s ego. “Please, don’t take all the blame. I’ll shoulder some if you want me to. Honestly, I’ve taken on much worse.”

The words didn’t need to be spoken about what Justin could handle, neither for Ben.

Justin sat up in the chair, no longer wanting to relax and chitchat. “We have to find them. Apologize and bring them back together.”

“Awww! Such a romantic you are. Can we take a chance that they wouldn’t drop us, like yesterdays newspaper, once we take our own bet back?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. We were pretty shitty to them. We wanted them to be people they weren’t and we killed a part of their soul. You don’t come back from an injury like that without forever changing something. We just have to hope they’ll forgive us and still want to be part of our lives.”

“I tell you what. I’ll call Debbie first and you make your way over here to Michael’s apartment. I’ll have figured out a game plan by then.”

“I’m on my way.” Justin pushed himself out of the chair and made his way to the counter where his keys lay. He hung up from Ben and grabbed a light sweatshirt top to ward off the light chill.

Ben pressed the hang-up button as he recalled familiar digits that remained in his mind. The phone rang once before Debbie’s voice came over the line.

“H’Lo, Novotny residence?”

“Deb, it’s Ben . . .” He barely got three words out before she went right into her speech.

“I don’t care how hard you beg! Or how charming you appear, but you are NOT, I repeat . . . you are not, getting your hands on them!”

“Them who?” Ben had to ask in confusion, but soon understood why Debbie had been so angry. “Brian and Michael are with you?”

“Yes, and probably sleeping the best sleep they’ve had in days. No thanks to you and Justin!”

“I know, Deb. We know what we’ve done to them. We’re really sorry. All we were doing was . . .”

“Save it! I know what you were trying to do. You nearly killed them both. I hope you and Justin are planning to show your dirty faces here to apologize.” Debbie paused in her tirade, knowing she would have to clam down and not make such noise over the phone. Ben might hang up on her. “I’m making some Chicken Marsala. Vic’s helping out, too. I suppose we can feed the extra faces, once you get here.” She didn’t want to appear too soft. “And don’t bother knocking, the door will be open.” She was gone in only seconds.

Ben couldn’t help chuckling after he spoke to Debbie. Well, after his good verbal beating from her he knew things were all right. Everything was back on its axis. Now, to find out how much damage they had really done to her boys. He decided to find another shirt to wear, but unfortunately nothing in Michael’s closet would fit over his muscular chest. He had to come up with Plan B.

**~~ &&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~**

  
The minute Justin pulled the car up to the sidewalk. He glanced over at Ben. “Can we do this?”

Ben shrugged his shoulder, feeling the slight tickle from what he’d borrowed of Emmett’s clothes that had been on hangers in his room. Jesus, no wonder Emmett danced like he did at Babylon. All this time he’d thought it was the music, but it was really how uncomfortable the clothes made you feel. He was itchy and trying to avoid the material touching his naked skin. Thank God he’d brought his own jacket, so he could hide from embarrassment. It had been the least offensive item to choose from. “She cooked us food, Justin. You don’t bow out on a free meal at the Novotny household.”

Justin took the key out of the ignition to pocket the set. “We could be walking into a trap.”

Ben smiled a wide grin, knowing full well what Justin meant. “I think Debbie’s beyond the ‘murdering in our sleep’ point. She knows that we know how much we’ve destroyed them. The only thing now is being able to walk to that door.” His finger hit the glass to show the open front door, where light filtered through to show they needed to move. And quick, or Debbie would come out and drag them both inside. “You ready?”

With enough gusto to battle an army of hundreds of homophobic rednecks, Justin finally found the nerve to face Debbie. “Let’s do this before I puke on my shoes.”

Ben didn’t want to approach the door alone. He got out to wait on the small patch of grass, just before the start of the concrete. Not such a good idea, since the wind decided to blow fiercely under a free space between him and the jacket. Christ, he hadn’t been this cold since trying to bundle in a snowsuit, at the age of six, to play outside with his best friend, Chaz, back in his old neighborhood. He literally shook from the icy feeling. He could almost sense the snow being shoved down the open zipper to hit his naked skin.

Justin noticed Ben shaking and walked up to him placing a gentle hand on his forearm. “Hey, it’s gonna be fine. No need to be scared.”

Ben had to grin from Justin’s honest worry over his appearance. “It’s fuckin’ cold.” He didn’t know if anyone wanted to hear the entire explanation.

Justin took offense to Ben’s abrupt reply, as he tucked his hands into the pockets of the light jacket. “Whatever gets you through it, man!” He about-faced and went up the long sidewalk toward the front door.

Ben shut his eyes to think he might have hurt Justin. “Hey, wait!” He didn’t want either of them to have to go through the door without proper back-up. Justin waited for him on the porch, right at the screen door.

Justin reached out a hand to press the button to work the metal screen door and was the first to step over the threshold. He stopped when he found what waited for him.

Ben blew on his cool hands hoping that rubbing and breathing some hot breath on them would alleviate some of his nerves. He crashed right into Justin’s back, almost knocking him into the heavy, wooden front door. The screen door slammed shut on his butt, as he winced at the sting. Justin backed up to show a mix between protecting them, and anyone following them, from the wrath of Debbie Novotny.

She stood at the base of the stairs, to the left of the landing. A wooden spoon was in her right hand. The other was in it’s usual spot on her hip. “Leave your coats. There’s something you need to see . . . upstairs.” She retreated into the kitchen to hand Vic her apron and spoon. “If I’m not back on five minutes, add the dill to the sauce. And more butter to the pasta, too.” She was wearing a comfortable pair of slacks with a billowy, loud patterned blouse. Her red wig was tied back with a sheer, strangely matched scarf, away from her face. She looked like she’d scrubbed her skin raw, but in reality she’d been teary-eyed since discovering what she found in Michael’s old bedroom. She headed up the stairs, wondering if Ben and Justin would follow her. Eventually they’d show, or at the least, they had better.

Ben wasn’t about ready to release his jacket to anyone. Even for the sake of pleasing Debbie, who would kind of take the misstep as an insult. Thinking you had somewhere else to be and didn’t want to waste her time. He closed his eyes when Justin turned from hanging up his jacket and held out a hand.

“What’s wrong?” Justin became worried by Ben’s hesitation to a simple move.

Ben released a heavy sigh. “Nothing. It’s a long story. Just . . . promise to hold all comments, and laughter, until I can explain . . .” He slowly lowered the zipper to reveal the oddly dyed half-shirt with the words “do me?” printed in a typewriter font in small letters. It would have been fine if Ben hadn’t been wearing it and if there wasn’t a feathery collar shaping the dip of the draped neckline.

Justin could only widen his eyes, in curiosity, as he chose a hook for Ben’s leather jacket. He tried to keep a straight face when he grabbed for Ben’s hand to pull him up the stairs to find where Debbie had roamed off to. They found her standing outside of a bedroom door that both men knew led into Michael’s childhood room. Debbie had her hand on the knob beginning to open the door to show Justin and Ben what kind of people they were dealing with.

“I want you to take a good look at what you tried to rip apart.”

The door slowly widened to allow the full view of Michael’s small twin bed. On the top of old Captain Astro bed linen lay Brian. He was still dressed from work. Looked as if he collapsed right on the mattress, without bothering to shed his clothes. His suit jacket was placed over him, like a tiny blanket for warmth. His head was buried into the pillow under his face. One arm was bent and tucked under the pillow, while the other stretched over the edge of the bed, hanging to the floor. Michael must have taken Brian’s shoes off. They were neatly placed at the end of the bed. They figured he would have shed Brian of his suit jacket, as well. Curled into a tight ball, on the floor, beside the twin bed lay Michael, deeply asleep. He had found a second pillow from his bed to use, as he stretched out on the braided rug. He was still in his light jacket to use for warmth. Sometime during his sleep, he’d kicked off his sneakers. As they plopped in different directions next to Brian’s perfectly placed shoes.

What glued everyone, to what was displayed before them, was the single action of the two clasped hands. Brian’s dangling fingers tightly clasped in Michael’s underhanded grip. Odd that even in sleep they held onto each other with such determined strength. Each kicking away the demons of nightmares, and a reality that sucked. Ben and Justin couldn’t believe that though they had found one another, Brian and Michael still tried to keep the bet going, despite how much it hurt them. They won. No more bets. It was over, but they couldn’t help feeling that there was no true winner.

Debbie crossed her arms over her ample bosom and leaned back on the doorjamb. She never tired of watching her two boys sleep. She always felt like crying as she gazed lovingly at them. Souls that were meant to be together. She’d never believe that new age crap unless she’d witnessed it herself. “I learned my lesson nearly eighteen years ago. Don’t mess with perfection. It may not look, or appear, like their relationship is healthy, but you have no idea what they’ve become for each other. Brian had no one to love him and Michael had no one to love. Simple as that, really. No matter how much he’s broken Michael’s heart, I give them this . . .” She chucked her thumb over her shoulder. “The time to find their way. They stumble around, get involved with other men, but somehow they know the way back. Back to where they can be true to themselves.” She swallowed with difficulty. “It’s hard enough to find love for anyone in this world. Why not let the ones who do love, so strongly, discover what they need out of each other. Stop making them be who they aren’t. And love them for who they already are.” She placed a loving hand to a cheek of Ben’s, and then to her Sunshine’s. Tears pooled in her eyes as she took one last look at the beautiful view of true companionship.

Justin tried to hold back his own tears as he hugged Debbie to him hoping she’d accept his apology. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

Ben did the same, but got an extra long look from Debbie. “I’m sorry, too.” He kissed her offered cheek. He knew she had questions about his choice in clothing. “I’ll explain at dinner.”

Debbie nodded her head and had to walk away quickly so she didn’t embarrass Ben, as ridiculous as he looked.

Justin leaned through the doorway hanging on the sculpted woodwork of the doorframe. His leaned his temple forward to eyeball the stunning, serene vision of Brian and Michael. Sometimes he knew when NOT to be an ass. This, between Brian and Michael, was out of his range. “Should we wake them?”

Ben shook his head slowly as he contemplated how to read the new view he had of Michael and Brian. There was something here beyond friendship. Soul mates. Shit, not even the most deeply spiritual being messed with that. He should have known better. “No. Like Debbie said, let’s give them ‘this’. We made them suffer for a week. Allow them to come downstairs on their own. They’ll discover the way.” He placed a gentle hand on Justin’s shoulder, as he pulled him back away from the door. He closed the door to give the other men privacy. Ben stood in front of Justin, admiring the young man for everything he’s had to deal with at his age. Like a motivational coach, Ben grabbed for Justin’s shoulders and spoke directly to his face. “We have to be willing to wait for them to come to us.”

“What if they don’t want anything to do with us?”

“That’s the risk we have to take. We’ve only known them for short periods of time. They’ve had half their lives to know each other. We have to allow ourselves the opportunity to get to know them.”

“And what if . . . in the end . . . they only want each other?”

“Then we have to hope that they allow us along for the ride . . . and that it’s all worth it. No matter who ends up with who.” Ben had to peer deeply into Justin’s shaded eyes. He couldn’t read him clearly. “You up for THAT challenge?”

“Coming from the man can carry off that shirt with a straight face . . . I’m willing to stick around for anything. You hungry?”

“Starving.”

They almost raced down the stairs while feathery froo-froo things flew after their trail.

 **==========THE END==========**

 **Read the longer fic this ficlet inspired, CAUGHT ON FIRE  
**


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